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        what-even-is-thiss:

bobcatdump:

jaskiegg:

mellomaia:

aphony-cree:

beyoncescock:

gahdamnpunk:

Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making


THANK YOU

I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.”
The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner
If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents 
People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings

Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents.
When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. 
I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.



God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent

“I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this



The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. 
A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”
I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future.
Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that.
My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad.
To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time.
It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely. 
: what-even-is-thiss:

bobcatdump:

jaskiegg:

mellomaia:

aphony-cree:

beyoncescock:

gahdamnpunk:

Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making


THANK YOU

I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.”
The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner
If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents 
People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings

Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents.
When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. 
I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.



God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent

“I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this



The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. 
A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”
I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future.
Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that.
My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad.
To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time.
It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    what-even-is-thiss:

bobcatdump:

jaskiegg:

mellomaia:

aphony-cree:

beyoncescock:

gahdamnpunk:

Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making


THANK YOU

I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.”
The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner
If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents 
People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings

Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents.
When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. 
I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.



God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent

“I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this



The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. 
A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”
I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future.
Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that.
My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad.
To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time.
It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely. 
: what-even-is-thiss:

bobcatdump:

jaskiegg:

mellomaia:

aphony-cree:

beyoncescock:

gahdamnpunk:

Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making


THANK YOU

I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.”
The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner
If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents 
People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings

Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents.
When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. 
I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.



God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent

“I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this



The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. 
A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”
I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future.
Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that.
My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad.
To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time.
It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely. 

                    
                
            

            
                
                
what-even-is-thiss:

bobcatdump:

jaskiegg:

mellomaia:

aphony-cree:

beyoncescock:

gahdamnpunk:

Honestly!!! This is just psychologica...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        lost-carcosa:

ask-a-countryhumans-fan:

dr-donogood:

yololiver:


serialreblogger:

werewolfchaos:

wakka66:

Okay, can I just talk about this comic series for a second? This has got to be the most hilarious comic series I have ever seen. This is AJ & Magnus, a Calvin and Hobbes inspired comic series about an adopted kid, his talking dog, and his 2 gay parents. The humor is really good, very quick and to the point. This series is beautiful, please, give them your love!

zangief one of his dads is zangief

reblogging bc i got really into AJ & Magnus thanks to this post



Reblogging to make sure there’s some Aunt Roz love!



I love this….so much-



Everything about this comic series gives me life
like, 
The aunt is not only trans m to f
THEY DID A SAILOR MOON FUCKING POSE
And not to mention the chaotic duo of the two dads
And that bully just got fucking OWNED.
Absolutely fucking amazing

https://www.gocomics.com/aj-and-magnus: lost-carcosa:

ask-a-countryhumans-fan:

dr-donogood:

yololiver:


serialreblogger:

werewolfchaos:

wakka66:

Okay, can I just talk about this comic series for a second? This has got to be the most hilarious comic series I have ever seen. This is AJ & Magnus, a Calvin and Hobbes inspired comic series about an adopted kid, his talking dog, and his 2 gay parents. The humor is really good, very quick and to the point. This series is beautiful, please, give them your love!

zangief one of his dads is zangief

reblogging bc i got really into AJ & Magnus thanks to this post



Reblogging to make sure there’s some Aunt Roz love!



I love this….so much-



Everything about this comic series gives me life
like, 
The aunt is not only trans m to f
THEY DID A SAILOR MOON FUCKING POSE
And not to mention the chaotic duo of the two dads
And that bully just got fucking OWNED.
Absolutely fucking amazing

https://www.gocomics.com/aj-and-magnus
        

            
            

                
                
                    lost-carcosa:

ask-a-countryhumans-fan:

dr-donogood:

yololiver:


serialreblogger:

werewolfchaos:

wakka66:

Okay, can I just talk about this comic series for a second? This has got to be the most hilarious comic series I have ever seen. This is AJ & Magnus, a Calvin and Hobbes inspired comic series about an adopted kid, his talking dog, and his 2 gay parents. The humor is really good, very quick and to the point. This series is beautiful, please, give them your love!

zangief one of his dads is zangief

reblogging bc i got really into AJ & Magnus thanks to this post



Reblogging to make sure there’s some Aunt Roz love!



I love this….so much-



Everything about this comic series gives me life
like, 
The aunt is not only trans m to f
THEY DID A SAILOR MOON FUCKING POSE
And not to mention the chaotic duo of the two dads
And that bully just got fucking OWNED.
Absolutely fucking amazing

https://www.gocomics.com/aj-and-magnus: lost-carcosa:

ask-a-countryhumans-fan:

dr-donogood:

yololiver:


serialreblogger:

werewolfchaos:

wakka66:

Okay, can I just talk about this comic series for a second? This has got to be the most hilarious comic series I have ever seen. This is AJ & Magnus, a Calvin and Hobbes inspired comic series about an adopted kid, his talking dog, and his 2 gay parents. The humor is really good, very quick and to the point. This series is beautiful, please, give them your love!

zangief one of his dads is zangief

reblogging bc i got really into AJ & Magnus thanks to this post



Reblogging to make sure there’s some Aunt Roz love!



I love this….so much-



Everything about this comic series gives me life
like, 
The aunt is not only trans m to f
THEY DID A SAILOR MOON FUCKING POSE
And not to mention the chaotic duo of the two dads
And that bully just got fucking OWNED.
Absolutely fucking amazing

https://www.gocomics.com/aj-and-magnus
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 
: clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 

        

            
            

                
                
                    clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 
: clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading
: feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

        

            
            

                
                
                    feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading
: feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!! 
I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. 
**
Practice on Me
New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. 
He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn 
and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers.
 His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a
 cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. 
And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup.
“Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.”
His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?”
Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?”
“I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.”
“Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard 
today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco 
guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.”
“It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

                    
                
            

            
                
                
feedmecookiesnow:
not-the-blue:
@fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)
: spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)

        

            
            

                
                
                    spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)
: spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 
𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸 (𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟵)

                    
                
            

            
                
                
spidaerman:
𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴—𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        second act: second act
        

            
            

                
                
                    second act: second act
                    
                
            

            
                
                
second act

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake
: saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake

        

            
            

                
                
                    saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake
: saints-row-2:
heres a clip from the movie In A Valley of Violence where james ransone gives a speech that is so incredible me n my friend had to pause the movie because we were laughing too hard to keep watching it  
parts of this scene that i think are worthy of note:
the way that halfway through saying “i need you” karen gillen obviously realises she doesnt actually need her terrible fiance james ransone that much and it comes out sounding like a question
that this film is set in like the 1800s but the way james ransone delivers his lines means that this entire exchange could be happening in the aisle over in a walmart 
the complete uncertainty with which karen gillen says “yes” like shes rapidly rethinking her entire life
𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻
the face james ransone makes at the end where his entire mouth disappears
the single eye twitch at the last second that is such an incredible cherry on top of an already completely insane cake

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”



: the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”




        

            
            

                
                
                    the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”



: the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. 



If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word.

He tells us more…
So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons.
Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni . 
Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later.
It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles.
I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️
Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms.
“And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y—
“And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home.
“Is [yet another friend]’s home?”
Update from the other night:
“Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is.
I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language.
Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?”
yep!
*runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

@radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount


“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”




                    
                
            

            
                
                
the-strongest-decoy:
arcticfoxbear:

by-grace-of-god:

prolifeproliberty:

candiikismet:

gingersofficial:



Life path unlocked. He’s a...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.
: clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.

        

            
            

                
                
                    clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.
: clockworkrobotic:

bigancestorenergy:

ouma-anti:

whatjordylikes:

danielle-mertina:


blackqueerblog:


Some parents really don’t understand the difference between actual discipline and hurting your kids.

This teaches a kid nothing except needing to hide what makes them happy because they’re scared their parents will destroy it.




Wow…what a terrible parent. Minecraft is A LOT of work, diligence, and creativity. The parent should have been encouraging that. And why does a 9 year old need to wake up every day at 7 am during a pandemic? What’s wrong with this person? 
I can foresee an estranged relationship in the future. Because this parent is out of their minds and more interested in exacting punitive control than being a loving caregiver. 



Y'all wonder why some kids are the way they are? This is it. 

why on earth does a NINE YEAR OLD CHILD has to wake up at fucking 7 am during a pandemic? 

also children may require up to TWELVE HOURS of sleep
he’s not being defiant—without the threat of a ridiculous and unnatural hour he MUST be awake at he’s actually following his natural circadian rhythm which is actually HEALTHIER for him
what they’ve done is broken his trust in a MAJOR way. he does not feel safe or in control. which is why he is refusing meals. 
honestly? if they keep this behavior up—let alone just not apologizing and finding the save file for his game—he’s gonna develop some dangerous coping skills like yknow. An eating disorder. Dissociation. Self harm.
I’m not being hyperbolic. this is literally how it starts.

This is the second time this week I’ve seen a story like this (the first being the boyfriend destroying his girlfriend’s AC island over an argument) and it makes me think – how is this ANY different to someone destroying a physical piece of art someone’s made: ripping up their sketchbook, breaking ceramics, cutting up cosplays? If this person had come forward with a question like “my son wouldn’t get out of bed so I broke the birdbox he made” there wouldn’t be ANY question whether this was abusive behaviour.
There’s an inherent disconnect with how we talk about the “value” of virtual items/creations in video games: something about the way that these things aren’t tangible in the conventional sense makes them somehow less valuable than something everyone can hold and observe and appreciate. Think about the amount of “funny gamer rage” videos out there that are people upset over losing WoW saves and the likes: game saves are often things people have put hundreds of hours into, they have value to that person and are representative of their own dedication. Hell, I’m really bummed at the moment over not having access to some of my BL2 saves (I can’t travel to get my PS4 from uni), and I know I’d be upset if I lost them forever. 
Video games are a massive escape mechanism for a lot of people especially right now, and putting time and effort into particularly building games is a constructive and creative outlet that gives people a feeling of accomplishment (and let’s be real it’s a lot more practical than having a house full of lego). Yet there’s still this weird stigma attached to them, this “it’s just a game” mentality that leads people to be easily dismissive of others’ feelings over losing progress. Destroyed your girlfriend’s AC island, which she put hundreds of hours into building? Whatever, it’s just a game. Deleted your kid’s minecraft file, which he spent an entire year working on? Whatever, it’s just a game, why are you so mad? It’s not a real thing, it’s just some numbers hiding behind fancy computer graphics!
Actions like this are intentional, targeted destruction of another person’s property - property they have created themselves -  by an adult who knew what they were doing and we should NOT treat them as anything other than that, regardless of medium.

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        5 second rule: 5 second rule
        

            
            

                
                
                    5 second rule: 5 second rule
                    
                
            

            
                
                
5 second rule

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        broadwaytheanimatedseries:

legalizememes:
smallest-feeblest-boggart:

the-hittite:

sexhaver:

sexhaver:


silverlightpony:


gayestgen:

scorch-mechanic:


goat-plushie:
Wait, there’s physical copies of Fallout Equestria? That’d have to be massive.
The first run was five hardbacks of progressively increasing girth. The stack is hefty, but the books are comfortable. Each chapter has chapter art too, which I consider a plus in all fantasy books.
Later runs were single-book softcover monstrosities. I think I saw another five-volume hardback run recently, but I’m not deeply involved in the fandom anymore.



The second print run was two volumes, hardback, with jackets.  Dunno about any subsequent runs.
I still think the 5-volume split was the best option.  It’s a big damn story.
(For anyone who hasn’t read it: yes, that’s a functional replica of the main character’s go-to weapon.  No, I didn’t customize it like that; I bought it from the person who did.)



anon PLEASE tell me your teacher is the author of this




Ok, I Kind of hate that I know this, but I’m pretty sure that anon’s teacher did NOT write the books the others are showing off. He wrote the darker, edgier and somehow even longer fanfic OF that fanfic called Project Horizons.
Original Fallout Equestria was written by someone known as Kkat who I’m 90% sure is a woman and the story only has some PG-13ish scenes at worst (you know, aside from the violence and gore that comes with a Fallout setting.) Project Horizons was written by a guy known as Somber, who I remember him mentioning in the post-chapter notes that he got fired for failing the wrong student once and the fic itself includes multiple explicit sex scenes.

it’s important to me u know what the 3rd printing looks like. please note the gilded pages



one of tumblr’s secret trump cards is its ability to deliver absolutely OBLITERATING gut punches like this post without any context or warning whatsoever



This is some dope fandom history and cursed tumblr ancient knowledge all at once 


: broadwaytheanimatedseries:

legalizememes:
smallest-feeblest-boggart:

the-hittite:

sexhaver:

sexhaver:


silverlightpony:


gayestgen:

scorch-mechanic:


goat-plushie:
Wait, there’s physical copies of Fallout Equestria? That’d have to be massive.
The first run was five hardbacks of progressively increasing girth. The stack is hefty, but the books are comfortable. Each chapter has chapter art too, which I consider a plus in all fantasy books.
Later runs were single-book softcover monstrosities. I think I saw another five-volume hardback run recently, but I’m not deeply involved in the fandom anymore.



The second print run was two volumes, hardback, with jackets.  Dunno about any subsequent runs.
I still think the 5-volume split was the best option.  It’s a big damn story.
(For anyone who hasn’t read it: yes, that’s a functional replica of the main character’s go-to weapon.  No, I didn’t customize it like that; I bought it from the person who did.)



anon PLEASE tell me your teacher is the author of this




Ok, I Kind of hate that I know this, but I’m pretty sure that anon’s teacher did NOT write the books the others are showing off. He wrote the darker, edgier and somehow even longer fanfic OF that fanfic called Project Horizons.
Original Fallout Equestria was written by someone known as Kkat who I’m 90% sure is a woman and the story only has some PG-13ish scenes at worst (you know, aside from the violence and gore that comes with a Fallout setting.) Project Horizons was written by a guy known as Somber, who I remember him mentioning in the post-chapter notes that he got fired for failing the wrong student once and the fic itself includes multiple explicit sex scenes.

it’s important to me u know what the 3rd printing looks like. please note the gilded pages



one of tumblr’s secret trump cards is its ability to deliver absolutely OBLITERATING gut punches like this post without any context or warning whatsoever



This is some dope fandom history and cursed tumblr ancient knowledge all at once 



        

            
            

                
                
                    broadwaytheanimatedseries:

legalizememes:
smallest-feeblest-boggart:

the-hittite:

sexhaver:

sexhaver:


silverlightpony:


gayestgen:

scorch-mechanic:


goat-plushie:
Wait, there’s physical copies of Fallout Equestria? That’d have to be massive.
The first run was five hardbacks of progressively increasing girth. The stack is hefty, but the books are comfortable. Each chapter has chapter art too, which I consider a plus in all fantasy books.
Later runs were single-book softcover monstrosities. I think I saw another five-volume hardback run recently, but I’m not deeply involved in the fandom anymore.



The second print run was two volumes, hardback, with jackets.  Dunno about any subsequent runs.
I still think the 5-volume split was the best option.  It’s a big damn story.
(For anyone who hasn’t read it: yes, that’s a functional replica of the main character’s go-to weapon.  No, I didn’t customize it like that; I bought it from the person who did.)



anon PLEASE tell me your teacher is the author of this




Ok, I Kind of hate that I know this, but I’m pretty sure that anon’s teacher did NOT write the books the others are showing off. He wrote the darker, edgier and somehow even longer fanfic OF that fanfic called Project Horizons.
Original Fallout Equestria was written by someone known as Kkat who I’m 90% sure is a woman and the story only has some PG-13ish scenes at worst (you know, aside from the violence and gore that comes with a Fallout setting.) Project Horizons was written by a guy known as Somber, who I remember him mentioning in the post-chapter notes that he got fired for failing the wrong student once and the fic itself includes multiple explicit sex scenes.

it’s important to me u know what the 3rd printing looks like. please note the gilded pages



one of tumblr’s secret trump cards is its ability to deliver absolutely OBLITERATING gut punches like this post without any context or warning whatsoever



This is some dope fandom history and cursed tumblr ancient knowledge all at once 


: broadwaytheanimatedseries:

legalizememes:
smallest-feeblest-boggart:

the-hittite:

sexhaver:

sexhaver:


silverlightpony:


gayestgen:

scorch-mechanic:


goat-plushie:
Wait, there’s physical copies of Fallout Equestria? That’d have to be massive.
The first run was five hardbacks of progressively increasing girth. The stack is hefty, but the books are comfortable. Each chapter has chapter art too, which I consider a plus in all fantasy books.
Later runs were single-book softcover monstrosities. I think I saw another five-volume hardback run recently, but I’m not deeply involved in the fandom anymore.



The second print run was two volumes, hardback, with jackets.  Dunno about any subsequent runs.
I still think the 5-volume split was the best option.  It’s a big damn story.
(For anyone who hasn’t read it: yes, that’s a functional replica of the main character’s go-to weapon.  No, I didn’t customize it like that; I bought it from the person who did.)



anon PLEASE tell me your teacher is the author of this




Ok, I Kind of hate that I know this, but I’m pretty sure that anon’s teacher did NOT write the books the others are showing off. He wrote the darker, edgier and somehow even longer fanfic OF that fanfic called Project Horizons.
Original Fallout Equestria was written by someone known as Kkat who I’m 90% sure is a woman and the story only has some PG-13ish scenes at worst (you know, aside from the violence and gore that comes with a Fallout setting.) Project Horizons was written by a guy known as Somber, who I remember him mentioning in the post-chapter notes that he got fired for failing the wrong student once and the fic itself includes multiple explicit sex scenes.

it’s important to me u know what the 3rd printing looks like. please note the gilded pages



one of tumblr’s secret trump cards is its ability to deliver absolutely OBLITERATING gut punches like this post without any context or warning whatsoever



This is some dope fandom history and cursed tumblr ancient knowledge all at once 



                    
                
            

            
                
                
broadwaytheanimatedseries:

legalizememes:
smallest-feeblest-boggart:

the-hittite:

sexhaver:

sexhaver:


silverlightpony:


gayestgen:...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        5 Second Rule?: 5 Second Rule?
        

            
            

                
                
                    5 Second Rule?: 5 Second Rule?
                    
                
            

            
                
                
5 Second Rule?

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

        

            
            

                
                
                    cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

                    
                
            

            
                
                
cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the g...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        isei-silva:

You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that Predators are often presented in their hunting armor and gear, I like to see it as a practical set much like our modern human combat armor is. It’s light, it’s tough, it’s sleek, and does what it needs to do. But, back in Yautja Prime, we’ve allowed their natural culture and social structures to rise based on what we do know of canon lore so far. Keep in mind that no major species’ civilizations are the same across its entire planet and set in stone. Much like we find VAST diversity in human culture depending on location, social structures, history, religions, mythos, etc… We have to allow Yautja the same courtesy. Meaning that some areas of Yautja Prime may reflect one aspect of their culture more strongly, others may favor another. Some may be more down to earth and wordly, others more technologically inclined and modern. Blood, Hunt, and Honor are the canopy of a very old tree rooted by long, branching roots. Above are the Honor Guard for the Council of Matriarchs, and the Council of Elders. The Matriarchs tend to mostly on-world matters, the Elders to off-world matters. This is based on a belief called the Three Bloods.From the RP:[”The Council of Matriarchs dealt with on-world matters because females were the First Blood of any yautja. Blood of the womb. Males dealt with off-world matters because they were often a yautja’s Second Blood, the blood of battle and the hunt. All yautja spent their entire life proving themselves for their next Blood. First, to survive after the womb, violent and uncertain and marked with danger outside of their control. Then through strict discipline and training to become Blooded and spill their own upon their brow to make their mark. The First and Second Blood. It was then the responsibility of both Councils to ensure that all yautja could earn their Third Blood - the blood of death. 

The Third Blood was not judged by Elders or Matriarchs, but by the gods.”]I designed the Honor Guard to reflect Native Middle and South American culture as a quiet nod to the original Alien versus Predator 2004 movie.We hope you enjoy!: isei-silva:

You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that Predators are often presented in their hunting armor and gear, I like to see it as a practical set much like our modern human combat armor is. It’s light, it’s tough, it’s sleek, and does what it needs to do. But, back in Yautja Prime, we’ve allowed their natural culture and social structures to rise based on what we do know of canon lore so far. Keep in mind that no major species’ civilizations are the same across its entire planet and set in stone. Much like we find VAST diversity in human culture depending on location, social structures, history, religions, mythos, etc… We have to allow Yautja the same courtesy. Meaning that some areas of Yautja Prime may reflect one aspect of their culture more strongly, others may favor another. Some may be more down to earth and wordly, others more technologically inclined and modern. Blood, Hunt, and Honor are the canopy of a very old tree rooted by long, branching roots. Above are the Honor Guard for the Council of Matriarchs, and the Council of Elders. The Matriarchs tend to mostly on-world matters, the Elders to off-world matters. This is based on a belief called the Three Bloods.From the RP:[”The Council of Matriarchs dealt with on-world matters because females were the First Blood of any yautja. Blood of the womb. Males dealt with off-world matters because they were often a yautja’s Second Blood, the blood of battle and the hunt. All yautja spent their entire life proving themselves for their next Blood. First, to survive after the womb, violent and uncertain and marked with danger outside of their control. Then through strict discipline and training to become Blooded and spill their own upon their brow to make their mark. The First and Second Blood. It was then the responsibility of both Councils to ensure that all yautja could earn their Third Blood - the blood of death. 

The Third Blood was not judged by Elders or Matriarchs, but by the gods.”]I designed the Honor Guard to reflect Native Middle and South American culture as a quiet nod to the original Alien versus Predator 2004 movie.We hope you enjoy!
        

            
            

                
                
                    isei-silva:

You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that Predators are often presented in their hunting armor and gear, I like to see it as a practical set much like our modern human combat armor is. It’s light, it’s tough, it’s sleek, and does what it needs to do. But, back in Yautja Prime, we’ve allowed their natural culture and social structures to rise based on what we do know of canon lore so far. Keep in mind that no major species’ civilizations are the same across its entire planet and set in stone. Much like we find VAST diversity in human culture depending on location, social structures, history, religions, mythos, etc… We have to allow Yautja the same courtesy. Meaning that some areas of Yautja Prime may reflect one aspect of their culture more strongly, others may favor another. Some may be more down to earth and wordly, others more technologically inclined and modern. Blood, Hunt, and Honor are the canopy of a very old tree rooted by long, branching roots. Above are the Honor Guard for the Council of Matriarchs, and the Council of Elders. The Matriarchs tend to mostly on-world matters, the Elders to off-world matters. This is based on a belief called the Three Bloods.From the RP:[”The Council of Matriarchs dealt with on-world matters because females were the First Blood of any yautja. Blood of the womb. Males dealt with off-world matters because they were often a yautja’s Second Blood, the blood of battle and the hunt. All yautja spent their entire life proving themselves for their next Blood. First, to survive after the womb, violent and uncertain and marked with danger outside of their control. Then through strict discipline and training to become Blooded and spill their own upon their brow to make their mark. The First and Second Blood. It was then the responsibility of both Councils to ensure that all yautja could earn their Third Blood - the blood of death. 

The Third Blood was not judged by Elders or Matriarchs, but by the gods.”]I designed the Honor Guard to reflect Native Middle and South American culture as a quiet nod to the original Alien versus Predator 2004 movie.We hope you enjoy!: isei-silva:

You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that Predators are often presented in their hunting armor and gear, I like to see it as a practical set much like our modern human combat armor is. It’s light, it’s tough, it’s sleek, and does what it needs to do. But, back in Yautja Prime, we’ve allowed their natural culture and social structures to rise based on what we do know of canon lore so far. Keep in mind that no major species’ civilizations are the same across its entire planet and set in stone. Much like we find VAST diversity in human culture depending on location, social structures, history, religions, mythos, etc… We have to allow Yautja the same courtesy. Meaning that some areas of Yautja Prime may reflect one aspect of their culture more strongly, others may favor another. Some may be more down to earth and wordly, others more technologically inclined and modern. Blood, Hunt, and Honor are the canopy of a very old tree rooted by long, branching roots. Above are the Honor Guard for the Council of Matriarchs, and the Council of Elders. The Matriarchs tend to mostly on-world matters, the Elders to off-world matters. This is based on a belief called the Three Bloods.From the RP:[”The Council of Matriarchs dealt with on-world matters because females were the First Blood of any yautja. Blood of the womb. Males dealt with off-world matters because they were often a yautja’s Second Blood, the blood of battle and the hunt. All yautja spent their entire life proving themselves for their next Blood. First, to survive after the womb, violent and uncertain and marked with danger outside of their control. Then through strict discipline and training to become Blooded and spill their own upon their brow to make their mark. The First and Second Blood. It was then the responsibility of both Councils to ensure that all yautja could earn their Third Blood - the blood of death. 

The Third Blood was not judged by Elders or Matriarchs, but by the gods.”]I designed the Honor Guard to reflect Native Middle and South American culture as a quiet nod to the original Alien versus Predator 2004 movie.We hope you enjoy!
                    
                
            

            
                
                
isei-silva:

You know that friend I was RPing with our Predators/Yautja? Oh yeah, we’re deep in worldbuilding, baby. While we know that P...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        Look 5 second: Look 5 second
        

            
            

                
                
                    Look 5 second: Look 5 second
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Look 5 second

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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                                    Hilarious Woman Yelling at Smudge the Cat Meme Finds Second Life on Twitter
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    DaBaby Expecting Second Child With Baby Mama MeMe, She Claims She's Single
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                                
                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Doja Cat went viral. Now what? A hip-hop meme star gets serious, sort of, for her second act